Rhythm Divine
by Indigo X
Summary: An unexpected end to a mission might lead to new horizons for Agent Chieftain if he can only forget the past and move on. Elite Beat Agents 'fic. Rated for mild swearing and allusions to hot n' heavy stuff. 2 B Updated soon, promise!
1. Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love

Rhythm Divine  
an Elite Beat Agents 'fic by  
Indigo X

---------------------------

Opening Beats: So I'm totally into this game, right? And as infectious as it is, I'm awfully surprised that only ONE person has written a 'fic on it. So, here we go. Chieftain, Laura and Lucy Stevens, J, Spin, and the rest of the EBA crew are property of Nintendo and Inis. Megan 'Agent Spice' Abernathy is (c) me.

No love for Morris and Derek in this story, sorry... I just like the idea of J, Spin, and Chieftain being a three-piece squad. P

Oh, yeah. The story begins just after 'You're The Inspiration', so anybody not having played past that level's about to get spoilerfied.

Story is... GO!

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Verse 1: Ain't Talking 'Bout Love

"...whoa."

Nobody else said anything as the trail of light evaporated into the sky. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Not to Agent Chieftain's knowledge, and he had been with this organization for years. He'd seen many things brought about by what the Agents had done... he himself couldn't count all the people he had inspired and encouraged through his moves, though he could remember every single one if mentioned. But never once had he seen this sort of thing, and truly the only apt comment was the word that slipped out of Spin's agape mouth.

They'd come to help. They didn't count on witnessing an honest to goodness miracle. Honestly, if four others hadn't seen the same thing, Chieftain (or just 'Chief', as he let his friends call him for short) would've sworn he'd just been working too hard. For someone whose duty was to provide support and encouragement through dance, Chief was a realist almost to the point of being a cynic. (J had once made the severe error of asking if the stick up Chief's ass had been surgically inserted. He'd almost gotten his pompadour knocked clean off his head for that remark.) So, it was probably because of this he was the first to recover from the mild shock of seeing a dead man appear out of nowhere to keep a promise to his daughter.

"...alright, I think we're done here. Agents, let's roll out."

A moment of still-stunned lack of motion.

"I said let's GO!"

"Awlright, awlright, we're comin' man, keep yo' hat on... geezy cristo, y'd think given we just all saw a dead guy..." Spin shrugged his shoulders, almost sulking as he started walking behind J back to the car.

"Shut the yap rookie, less talkin' more walkin'. We need t' get back and... try to make some kind of report on this for the Commander. If anyone's got any brilliant ideas on how t' make this thing not sound like a fairytale an' sound like a missions report, I'm open for..."

Chief stopped short. Someone had grabbed his hand from behind, and seeing as both J and Spin were ahead of him, he startled, spinning around in a rather dazzling heel pivot/quick backstep combo (it was easy to forget how graceful Chief was, considering he was built rougly like a Sherman tank)...

...and finding himself colliding into the gaze of the damn prettiest baby blues the big man had ever seen. And he'd seen a LOT of pretty girls in his line of work.

She wasn't a beauty queen or a supermodel, an idol or an actress. Her beauty was in her down-to-earth good looks. Her normalcy, her believability. Her hair was blonde, tied up in a twist behind her head, and her girl-next-door pretty face was just showing the lines of not only time and the stresses of motherhood, but bereavement as well. Those baby blues were a little misty, too.

"...ma'am."

He removed his hat. It was a gentlemanly courtesy thing, something his mama'd drilled into him as a pup. Always take off your hat in the presence of a lady. He probably should've removed his silver shades as well, but he was so used to wearing them he'd just forgotten. It didn't seem to bother the woman, though. She smiled at him in a bittersweet way that made Chief's heart bleed a little.

"Sir..."

"Chieftain, ma'am. Agent Chieftain of the Elite Beat Agents."

"Yes... oh... ah, Laura. Laura Stevens. I... I wanted to thank you. What just happened... I can't help but think it happened because of you and your partners. It meant so very much to Lucy... she's such a good little girl, and she needed something like this so much. If... if what we saw was just a miracle, Agent Chieftain, then you coming here tonight was a godsend. Thank you... all three of you... so much."

Chief tried his damndest not to blush. He wasn't a damn rookie anymore... not like Spin, who jumped over the moon every time someone thanked him. Helping people was part of the job... no, it was the whole kit and kaboodle of the job. No thanks were necessary, and a simple show of gratitude hadn't flustered him so much since he was just a kid.

Maybe it was the dead guy. The Spectacular Spectral Spectacle. Yeah, that'd knock anybody's professionalism off kilter. Your still good, Chief, just keep it together. And stop with the blushing, dammit.

"Well... you're mighty welcome, ma'am. That's our job- servin' the people and all that. Don' hesitate to call out if you ever need us again, Ms. Stevens. Make sure lil' Lucy knows that, too."

"Mmmhm. Thanks again, Agent. I'm... going to go get Lucy out of the cold. I'd do the same... it's freezing out tonight." Laura nodded to Chief, and went off to walk little Lucy back into the house. The girl was snuggling both her teddy bears and still shedding tears of joy as she looked once more back over her shoulder. She waved, and Chief waved back, smiling a bit in spite of himself.

He wondered how wrong it was to wish something else came up so he'd have an excuse to come back... oh, man, are you crazy? That's a damn fool thing to wish for. Everything's clear here, good work, now let's move on, shall we?

Hoofing out a huge sigh, Chief slipped his hat back onto his head as he slid into the driver's seat... and shot an icy, sliver-lensed look through the rear-view at J and Spin, who were smiling at him a little too widely. J was just about to open his mouth...

"...if this ain't about that missions report, I'd close that mouth, kid."

...when he promptly shut it again, but he didn't need to say a word. The grins and the looks being shot between J and the rookie spoke for themselves.

"She was jus' thanking me, okay? Damn, you knuckleheads can read into anything to something that ain't there..."

"Then why're ya still blushing, Chief?"

"J, can it. First off, she's a target. It's just not professional. Secondly, she's a widow. Third..."

"...Chief's too straitlaced to act on l'amour and'll probably dance hisself alone to the big discotheque in the sky. You gotta take it when it comes up, man. Like, Foxx. Foxx is totally into me."

J rolled his eyes. "Spin, Foxx is totally into your _headphones_. She's a tech junkie. She'd probably just as soon build a robot and date that than date you. Still, you got a point. Chief, I really think Ms. Stevens liked you."

"...damn kids don' know nothin'."

Chieftain hunched his massive shoulders over the wheel, white-knuckle gripped on, and was both dead silent and dangerously speeding the entire way back to HQ.

Kids really didn't know a damn thing. Laura'd never go for him... even if he was the kind of guy, lacking Spin's boyish mack-daddy charm or J's smooth ladykiller charisma, who had the ladies falling at his feet... he knew that the loss of someone you loved wasn't any simple task to get over. Despite Spin's philosophy, the easiest way to get over someone was NOT to get under someone else. Sometimes, little to nothing worked but time.

And time... despite what sort of situation Laura may be in right now... still hadn't freed Chief from the ghost of Megan...

(To Be Continued)


	2. Ghosts of You

Opening Beats: Let's play Build-A-Soundtrack! In case you didn't notice, all the chapters of this story are to be named after songs, and being a 'fic based on a musical game about an organization that uses music to help people, there'll be a lot of music in the story. So far, here's the tune-age:

Van Halen, 'Aint Talkin' 'Bout Love', Chicago, 'You're The Inspiration', My Chemical Romance, 'Ghosts of You', Prince, 'Kiss', Missy Elliot, 'Get UR Freak On'

Other tunes, such as Moby, 'In This World' and Elvis Presley, 'Heartbreak Hotel', are mentioned, but will be used more in-depth later. Enjoy the music, and enjoy the story!

Verse Two: Ghosts of You

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_The scent of poppies, red petals tucked into wavy red hair. A gold star on a silver chain. Cinnamon kisses._

_Step-slide-step, clap-clap, pivot back shimmy-down_

_'You don't have to be rich to be my girl...'_

_Spice perfume. The warmth and tenderness of her body pressed against his._

_'You don't have to be cool to rule my world...'_

_Splashes of blood. Electrical storm._

_'Ain't no particular sign I'm compatible with...'_

_Fingers combing through his long dark waves. Kisses planting up his neck._

_'I just want your extra time, and your...'_

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_

_'...kiss...'_

_Warm, still weight in his arms. Rain falling from the sky in torrents. Crimson stains on his suit. _

_Lips tremble against his ear. Faint words. He can barely make them out._

_All he can do is keep the rain off her._

She's gone. Gone... gone...

_Baby don't leave me... all by myself..._

_Baby don't leave me... all by myself..._

_--------------------------_

In his room at EBA HQ, Chief sits bolt upright, gasping for air. His brow his drenched in sweat, and yet he shivers as if he's freezing. His steel-colored eyes stare blindly ahead at nothing, his jaw dropped slightly, still breathing in hard. His heart pounds.

Every couple nights, the same thing. Perhaps it was an improvement... a few months after it had happened, almost a year ago, he'd had the nightmares every single night. A disjointed collage of memories, all leading up to that rainy night. A flood of rain, saltwater, and running red.

He falls back onto the pillow, eyes shutting tightly, one muscular forearm resting over his face. Someday, this would stop. This had to stop. If it didn't stop, he didn't know how much longer he could keep it together... and for the sake of his partners, and perhaps even the EBA as a whole, he HAD to keep it together.

Turning his head to the side, he looks at the digital clock. 5 a.m. He sighs deeply, and closes his eyes. An hour's more of sleep, if he can... that would be nice...

---------------------------

later that morning

_Missy be puttin it down_

_I'm the hottest 'round_

_I'll told yall mutha (skurt)_

_Y'all can stop me now_

_Listen to me now_

_I'm lastin twenty rounds_

_And if you want me (people)_

_Then come and get me now _

Nobody was on the practice arena floor this morning, which was just fine by Spin. For a young man who had quickly garnished the reputation of the stereotypical carefree, playful rookie, he had a lot on his mind. Too much. He wasn't used to this much thinking at once... he was a person who preferred to think on his feet and let his nimble moves and slick spinning get him out of trouble.

Lately, though, he'd just been walking around with too much in his head. He felt it was effecting his dancing, which is why he enjoyed practicing so early. Nothing to think about, nobody here except for himself and Missy, joining him courtesy of his headphones.

The headphones were a very vital thing to Spin... not only were they as trademark to his look as Chieftain's hat or J's pompadour, they constantly generated a flow of music into his ears. Music to him was nothing less then audible, intangible blood... it had kept him alive through some of the roughest nights in the 'hood, inspired him, helped him earn his bread and butter, and eventually got him discovered by the EBA. If he didn't hear music every minute, even if just as quiet background noise, he'd get fidgety, then visibly nervous, until he'd absolutely NEED to hear some sort of tune or he'd scream. (Before he came here, where there was always music somewhere even if he didn't have the 'phones, he'd sometimes had to resort to humming or even singing aloud at the most inappropriate times when he hadn't been allowed his headgear. You don't know the feeling of 'awkward' until you've burst into a Tourette's-like rendition of DMX's 'Party Up' in the middle of a particularly song-free church sermon.)

_Is you with me now (bounce)_

_The biggie biggie bounce (bounce)_

_I know you dig the way i sw... sw... switched ma style_

_(Holla) People sing around_

_Now people gather round_

_Now people jump around_

He's not following any set style... just freestyle street, making it up as he goes, the sound channeling from his headphones into his ears through his body and amplified throughout the room, not as louder sound but as Spin's bewitching moves. He flowed like a river made flesh.

Most everyone agreed that he was the rookie with the most promise that the EBA had ever seen- given discipline and practice, there's no telling how good he could be. Of course, though the 'practice' part was done well enough, the 'discipline' part could certainly use work. He struggled to obtain synchrony with the rest of his team... Spin always wanted to do his own thing. He wasn't enormously cocky, nor did he dislike his teammates- far from it.

As much as part of him wanted to be perfectly harmonious, his rebellious feet always had other ideas.

And maybe, he thinks, that's why...

Aw, nevermind now, man. Just move.

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha freak on... (go)_

_Getcha getcha getcha getcha getcha freak on..._

"...nice moves."

Spin snaps around, startled, and breathes out as soon as he catches eye of the interloper. J.

The rookie smiles... if he had to pick a best friend out of this entire close-knit organization, J would probably be it. A standard-level agent, the middle man between Spin the rookie and Chieftain the legendary veteran (who was outranked only by Commander Kahn himself), J's easygoing attitude made him the perfect mediator whenever Spin and Chief got into an argument. The big veteran would usually listen to J's logic, and Spin rarely thought J treated him like some snot-nosed kid.

He steps up to the rookie, who clasps his friend's hand and pulls him into a quick embrace.

"Thanks, man. Me an' Missy just freestylin' a bit, y'know, kickin' it while the scene's still mellow."

"So I noticed."

J smiles, an expression which fades a bit as his head tilts slightly to the side.

"You were off, though, just a little. Looks like you're bugging a bit. Somethin' on your mind you wanna talk about, dude?"

"Ehhhh. Stupid shit. Toss me that towel, would ya?"

J does, and Spin dabs the sweat off his head and shoulders, sighing deeply. Yes... it was off, and there was something on his mind... that's why he was here this early in the morning. But it was a kind of sheepish thing to be dwelling on... probably just his imagination... he almost wasn't going to say it, but J was just too hard not to confide in.

"...It's Chieftain. I totally respect the cat, dig, an' I'm totally honored t' be on his team, 'specially this soon on. I never thought I'd dance with Chief YEARS from now, much less after just bein' in for a couple'a months. I dig it. The guy's a master, no doubt. But..."

He scratches the back of his head.

"...I don' think he likes me much, J."

J sighs. He had a feeling this was going to come up sooner or later. Spin tried time and again to impress the veteran, and yet the two continued to butt heads. Perhaps it was simply the generation gap. That's what most people would say. J, of course, knew better.

"Spin... let me tell ya somethin'. 'S kind of a long story, you game to hear it?"

"Yeah."

Large brown eyes blink at J, the youngster's curiosity piqued. He turns a dial on his phones, lowering the sound to a dull murmur- the closest he could give anything to his undivided attention.

"Okay. The whole thing really started around the same time I'd just made BA-3 rank. I made BA-2 'round the time you came in, so this was about... oh, two years back. A new batch of rookies had come in for agent training... one girl with them. A redhead, freckles on her cheeks, mossy green eyes. Irish-looking girl named Megan Abernathy. She'd slipped in through a loophole... the chosen girls usually go through Diva training, you know... but this girl, she didn't want to be a diva, she wanted to be an agent, and seein' as there wasn't anything in the rules saying she wasn't allowed... well, she snuck in on a technicality. But man, she payed for it. She got hazed like nobody's business... and headin' up the brunt of this was legendary BA-1, Agent Chieftain. Y'see, it wasn't her gender he had a problem with- it was the way she'd gotten her way. Chief's never liked it when people squirm in through loopholes. He yells at cop shows when that kinda thing happens, for goshsakes."

"Anyway, she dealt with this shitstorm like a man, t' borrow a cliche. She put up with everything thrown at her and more, her moxy both impressing and infuriating Chief something awful, until the last day of EBA Basic came. You remember how it goes... everyone picks their song, and if their dance impresses the judges and shows what they've learned in training, they stay. If not, they're gone. Well... Chief twisted it up a bit for miss Megan. She didn't just have to dance to impress the judges... she had to dance... and win... a Dance Duel against Chief, or she had to pack up and go home with the rest of the wannabes."

Spin's jaw dropped. That... man, that was HARSH.

"...what happened?"

"Sparks flew. Chief broke out the Elvis... you've never seen it yet, but Chieftain dancing his 'Heartbreak Hotel' routine is the kind of thing that makes grown men cry. It's that damn good. Nobody thought Megan had a prayer, but she had an ace up her sleeve. She started in with Prince. 'Kiss'. They went one verse followed up by another, harder and more fluid 'till the tunes ran together and so did their routine, and somewhere in that duel... something clicked."

"Who won, J?"

"Eh, it was called a draw, but that's not important. During that duel, whatever beef Chief and Megan had with each other totally flipped, and not only did they stop being rivals, right after her graduation... It was Chief who picked out her codename, by the way, Spice, it suited her really nice... they became partners. I was chosen as their third man, but it was really all about them. Chief and Spice. Match made in heaven. God, he loved that girl."

Spin draws his knees to his chest. He has a feeling he knows where this is going now, and his heart sinks right down to his shoes.

J continues, eyes saddening behind amber sunglasses.

"They were partners for a good year, lovers most of that time. Inseparable, but still not the kind of couple that makes you want to puke. Like they were best friends besides being hooked up. Then, one afternoon, we were sent out to answer a distress call in a bad urban neighborhood. A girl had called out for us. Her brother and her boyfriend had never gotten along, and things were gonna turn violent. Like, heavy gang violence if she couldn't get them to at least agree to disagree. We went, we even had just the tune for the occasion, one from the King of Pop. 'Beat It'."

He sighs, rubs at his temples.

"We did our thing the best we could. Stormclouds were coming in, rain started t' fall. It was a cold rain, even though it was the middle of summer, and the whole damn thing was just ominous. We kept going, though... and damn, I swear the situation had almost diffused. But then... something happened. Chief slipped, an' as you know, sometimes just one little slip'll break down an entire mission. In that break, the wolves came out. I broke out my cell to call the police in the sudden confusion... and then, oh, god, the guns started going off. I took one to the arm... a pretty much superficial injury, thank God... but poor Spice girl, she knew that people in a panic will start shooting at the biggest dog in the yard, threw herself in front of Chief, and..."

J bows his head. Spin closes his eyes sadly.

"...she died bleeding in Chieftain's arms. We had her funeral in the Great Hall... it was really beautiful. Starr sang. Chief... I'd never seen him so destroyed by anything before, and probably won't again. He was just devastated. We didn't know if he'd ever bounce back from it. He did eventually, though, by throwing himself into his work. If he took the EBA seriously before, it was his everything now. That's why he dosen't tolerate any goofing off or joking around. That's probably part of the reason he rides you like he does... the other reason, though, is because of your spot."

He eyes Spin pointedly.

"You're dancing Spice's spot now. He probably sees any messing around on your part as disrespect."

"Man..."

Spin drops his head into his hands. It makes a lot of sense now... but man, it was clinched. With that much on his shoulders, Chief'd never like him. The veteran'd always see the rookie as the young upstart who'd replaced his dead girlfriend, and there was nothing Spin could do about it.

...unless...  
-----------------------

sometime that afternoon, a quiet suburban neighborhood

Little Lucy Stevens hums sweetly as she plays with her teddy bears. There was a warmth about her house, a feeling of peace that she hadn't felt there for a long time. Her mother seemed happier now, and the deep gloom that her father had left when he'd gone away was finally taking its leave.

It was all, she was certain, because of the three Agents who'd come and sang and danced for them. Their dancing had magic in it, had to. Otherwise, it wouldn't have helped to bring her daddy home one more time.

She especially remembers the big agent. He was big, and handsome, even though he looked gruff. Still, there was a good heart underneath all that. Lucy was a very good judge of character. In her book, nobody who didn't have a big heart couldn't have done what the big man had done. So she'd watched her mommy talk to him, seen the way he'd taken his hat off in front of her like a cowboy in an old movie, and how her mommy had smiled at that.

Her mommy hadn't smiled so prettily in a very long time.

They ought to see each other again, she thinks.


End file.
